


Today

by DerpyMcderpkins



Series: Fic Requests [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: And mentions of drinking/alcohol, Anxiety, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Haphephobia, fic request, no sin here, one bad word, plot?, so that's why teen rating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerpyMcderpkins/pseuds/DerpyMcderpkins
Summary: Another request, hot from the press!!!!!Prompt: "Something fluffy, please! I'll leave it broad, but could I have Sans classic and reader?"Very well! you and Sans have some fluffy meeting time in Grillby's.





	Today

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for tuning in guys! My ask box is open again, so come take a look at my FAQ first and then if you have a request, ask me away! My Tumblr is sfw other than occasional links leading to external nsfw written material.
> 
> hooboyismellsin.tumblr.com/faq

Every time he looked into your eyes, he saw a deep loneliness. You could be surrounded by people, and you would be scared- but most of all you would be lonely. He never really saw you around that often, and when you did come by, it was in fleeting moments or he had just seen you leave.  
  
Today, you had stuck around for several minutes, your gloved hands shaking slightly as they tenderly accepted a glass from everyone’s favorite, flaming-hot barman, Grillby. So, he was taking this opportune time to observe you carefully since he almost never had a chance.  
  
Today, you hadn’t made eye contact with him, which had become an odd, normal thing. As you left, you would briefly look at his face, smile once you made eye contact, and then rushed out the door as if you were running away from him. Because of this lack of fleeing, he hadn’t gotten a good look at your face as you slumped over the bar and buried your mouth to your drink as if your were dying of thirst, lapping at an oasis in the desert.

Your watcher’s eyelights roamed over you carefully, taking in your appearance. Today, you wore a typical outfit, if not a little more dressed up than he was used to briefly seeing you in. You donned dark, leg-fitting jeans and your pleather jacket was zipped tightly shut, with a plaid scarf tucked in neatly. Your hair was curled beautifully, shining softly under the dim fire-glow, and he took a little longer to admire the ringlets he wasn’t used to seeing.  
  
After a long moment, he realised that you had turned to face him, and he jumped just a bit when he realised that he was looking directly into your eyes, his blue magic quickly gathering in a heated pool in his cheeks. He turned immediately, staring at the bar top with a grimace.  
  
He was surprised, however, when your soft laughter rang through, closer to him than it had been before. He turned his head, jumping again because he found you closer than he expected. A quick glance towards your pleather-clad hands told him that you were shaking more than ever. Why was that?  
  
“Hi, there,” you whispered to him, a soft harmony of quivering fear but unbridled fascination. He was startled to hear such a thing.  
  
“Uh… h-hey there, pal,” he mumbled after a moment, unable to help but mimic your expression as you smiled up towards him.  
  
“I’m… being bold, today,” you informed him, causing the mild ridge above his eye socket quirk in confusion.  
  
“S… sorry?”  
  
“Ah, what I mean is… We’ve seen each other in passing several times, now. I was hoping today I would have the gall to say, um, hello… And I did,” you explained, your hand moving to rub the back of your neck awkwardly.  
  
“i’m glad ya did,” he said after a moment, causing you to startle.  
  
“Oh… Really? Ah hah…” you laughed briefly, awkwardly, and it wasn’t as beautiful as the first time he’d heard but it was still precious.  
  
His curiosity got the better of him, and he stuck out his hand for his typical greeting. “name’s sans, sans the skeleton.”  
  
He didn’t miss how you flinched away slightly once his hand raised. “I’m sorry, I’m not so good on the… touching… thing,” you murmured after a moment, your gaze drifting away from his in shame. “B-but….” you paused, and then told him your name anyways.  
  
Sans slowly put his hand down, thinking about what you had said for a long while, before he smiled easily and repeated your name, causing you to glance towards him. “‘s a good name, ya know? thanks for tellin’ me.”  
  
Your soft eyes widened just a bit, as if marveled that he hadn’t even mentioned the fact that you had refused to shake his hand, and your trembling stopped momentarily. “Really? Oh, um, thank you. I’m glad that you don’t mind, that, you know…”  
  
Sans shrugged it off and glanced towards the bartop, using a single phalange on the top of the spout to roll his ketchup bottle around on its circular bottom as he spoke. “‘s that why you’re so scared’a bein’ in here?” he murmured questioningly, his dull eyelights flickering over your way again, watching as you sank down a bit, playing with the zipper on your coat collar.  
  
“Yes. It’s difficult for me to be in large crowds, there’s a larger risk of being touched,” you responded, and he nodded in confirmation.  
  
“‘s what I thought, no big deal,” he said easily, not seeming offended in the slightest to your greatest relief. “why d’ya come by, then? ‘n why are ya stayin’, now?”   
“Well, I’m trying to expose myself more and more,” you admitted, finally climbing back onto a stool, although now it was the one right next to him. You had grabbed your drink at some point, too, bringing that along with you. “And like I said, today I’m trying to be bold.”  
  
All of his combined observations and the information you had willingly given him brought home the metaphorical cows, and he hummed. That’s why you always looked so lonely and scared whenever the two of you met gazes, he understood it now. After a long moment of thought, he grabbed a pen and a napkin, jotting down his mobile number in chicken scratch and sliding it your way.  
  
“well, then I’ll be bold, too. take my number, le’s be friends,” he said, leaving little room for argument as your eyes widened in surprise and you were nearly choking on your drink as you quickly set it back down onto the bar top.  
  
“Y-you… You’re serious?”  
  
“yeah, why not?” he questioned, that easy grin as always widening on his teeth.  
  
“... You’re right. Fuck it,” you responded, swiping the napkin quickly and giving him a bright smile. It was one that had his breath catching in his non-existent throat, and his eyelights shallowing just a bit as he took in the sight of you, not so scared and not as lonely anymore. He felt… nice. The exact opposite of how he usually felt on a typical Friday.   
  
Today, he believed, was a pretty damn good day.


End file.
